


Death Trap

by Dayspring



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Season 6 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-26
Updated: 2011-08-26
Packaged: 2017-10-23 01:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/244952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dayspring/pseuds/Dayspring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...After all the time you've spent on Earth and in heaven with your former douche brothers, you should know that blind obedience is a recipe for major suckage."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death Trap

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for all of Season 6!

"...I'm your new God. A better one. So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord, or I shall destroy you." Castiel didn't even bother to glare at them, so smugly assured of their adoration.

Sound spurted out around Dean--Bobby's defiant, "Kiss my ass," and Sam's angrily spat, "No fucking way." But Dean just stared silently at the angel/god...and the angel/god stared silently back.

"Dean! What the fuck!" Sam's hand fell on his shoulder, spinning him around and breaking the gaze he shared with Castiel. "He messing with your brain, dude? Can you even talk, man? So much for 'free will,' huh, Cas?' Sam sneered.

"Nobody's messing with squat, Sam." Dean spoke before Castiel could get pissed-off at his brother's insinuation. Dean felt the underlying tremors in the hand on his shoulder, and knew that Sam, despite his admirable attempt with the angel blade, was borderline in the ready for action department. Whenever that occurred, Dean knew it was his duty to keep the bad guy's attention squarely focused on himself. He turned back toward his former friend. "I'm just weighing my options."

"A wise man." Castiel bestowed a beatific smile upon him.

Dean shivered.

"What fucking options?" Sam demanded. "I _know_ you aren't considering doing what he says." He snorted in disbelief. "How many times have you told the real God to fuck off and die?"

Bobby stepped forward to look into Dean's eyes. "Son. Your entry into the room wasn't exactly optimal."

Dean rolled his eyes. When had he ever entered a room "optimally". His back was killing him, and he didn't want to think about the non-floating ribs that now drifted around every time he breathed. "I'm not concussed and, no, I'm not a sudden religious convert. I'm an opportunist, always have been. I wanna figure out which action is gonna give me the biggest bang for my buck."

Castiel didn't even pretend not to know what Dean was saying. "What 'bang' are you looking for?"

Dean cocked his head to one side, similar to the way Cas used to. "Just me. Sam and Bobby get to walk free no matter what."

"What the hell, Dean!"

"Don't be an idjit, boy!"

"Why?" Cas asked calmly. "Why do you wish to _spare_ them the worshiping of their Lord God? Is that not the greatest thing they can do?"

"If you don't mind me putting it bluntly, your Lordship, after all the time you've spent on Earth and in heaven with your former douche brothers, you should know that blind obedience is a recipe for major suckage."

Castiel blinked. "Perhaps you have a point."

"Of course I do. Freely following you because of your awesomeness is what you want from us."

"And you, Dean Winchester, would freely follow me?" Castiel's tone didn't change, but Dean could hear the suspicion nevertheless.

"I've always been loyal to my family." He mentally crossed his fingers, hoping Castiel remembered the heartfelt plea he'd made about him being family just minutes before. But maybe since it wasn't in the form of a prayer....

Castiel gave a slight nod. "That is true. Very well, Dean. Bow and pledge your fealty to me."

Dean walked forward, shaking off Sam's hand.

"Don't do this," Sam hissed. "There's--"

"What? Another way? We lost to angels, Sam. How the fuck do you think we can take on God? And who knows? Maybe he's right. Maybe he _is_ a better version. Wouldn't take much to accomplish that, would it."

"Dean, son--"

"Shut it, Bobby. Just get Sam outta here, all right? I'll be fine with Cas--I mean, God. Glory, hallelujah, and all that bullshit, right?"

"You don't sound like a loyal follower," Castiel began ominously.

"Yeah, well, I'm in fucking pain, and you should remember what a bitch that can be. Your little demon friend smashed me into a table. My ribs feel like they're ready to jump out of my chest and land on a platter at _Chili's_ or something." Dean pressed his chest and winced. "How 'bout it, Cas? You like your former boss's kid? Can I touch the hem of your fucking trench coat and be healed? And, damn, we need to get you a new wardrobe. Nobody's gonna follow a fucking pedophile."

Castiel cocked his head to one side. "Yes, your pain is great."

"You fuckin' mojo'ing me?" Dean huffed awkwardly.

"I've determined a correlation between your utterance of the word 'fuck'--and its multiple derivatives--and the amount of pain you are in."

"So, can I touch you or what?"

Castiel spread his arms benevolently. "Come and be healed."

Dean fought to hide his eyeroll at the dramatics. One drama queen in his life was enough. Speaking of--

"Don't do it! You don't know what he'll do to you. You touch him and he might mindfuck you, Dean."

"You know, the next time I negotiate a get-out-of-jail-free card for you, maybe you'll fuckin' take it. Get outta here! Both of you!" He took a step toward Cas and held out his hand. "A little help, Oh God, Book II."

Castiel reached for him, then drew back. "You fool!" He hissed in haughty indignation, like an alley cat Dean had once shooed off the Impala. "Did you not hear what I said to your brother? I am no longer an angel." He slashed his arm out and Dean's shirt disappeared, displaying his chest bloodied in the banishing sigil. "This is blasphemy!"

Dean looked down. "And here I was thinking it was Enochian."

"You--" Castiel looked at Bobby-- "Idjit!"

"Will that be a quote in the Bobby Gospels?" Dean asked with a smirk. "And by the way, I might be an idjit, but I make a hell of a distraction."

"Wha--"

Castiel fell into a crumpled tan pile, revealing Death's lean form dressed in a black suit and matching long coat. His cane rested lightly against Castiel's shiny black shoe.

"Should've worn my cowboy duster," Dean muttered. "Done?" he asked aloud.

"Yes, the souls have been reaped and are where they should be. Well done, Dean Winchester. I knew I hired the right detective for the job."

"Just call me the 'Finder of Lost Souls.'" Dean looked down at Castiel. "He gonna be okay?"

"Just suffering from a sudden loss of vitality. Sort of a post-coital lethargy."

"Wham, bam, and fall asleep, huh? Not cool, man. I feel so cheap," he said to the former god and, hopefully, current angel. Who knew how his deadbeat dad was going to take his son's unauthorized walk in his shoes. Could bust him down to the rank of fallen angel or boost him up in power because of his "initiative."

"Would dinner make you feel better?" Death asked. "I've discovered this lovely hole-in-the-wall in Texas. Best burger I've had in--millennia."

"Sounds good, man. Just gotta--" Dean threw his hands around, indicating the clean up he wasn't looking forward to.

"I understand. Just give me a call when you're ready. The burger really is to die for."

Dean laughed. "We'll work on that sense of humor over dinner. Tell Tessa I said hey."

"I will. See you around, Dean. Gentlemen." He bowed and disappeared.

Dean turned to see Sam and Bobby behind him, mouths agape and eyes wide. "I thought I told you guys to scram."

Sam stared at him. "What the hell just happened?"

"Death hired me to find a lot of souls that went missing. Kinda obvious where they'd gone. So I arranged for a reap. Dude was in dire need of an intervention."

Bobby scratched at his beard. "You didn't die. I know damn well you didn't have time to die between leaving South Dakota and here. Unless you died when the car rolled?"

Dean paled. He'd forgotten about the Impala. His poor baby. "Hope you borrowed more than a two-seater to get here," he said to Sam. "And no, this time I didn't have to kick the bucket in order to speak to Mr. Grim." He patted his pocket. "Got a company phone when I hired on."

"Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, boy. You..." Bobby just shook his head.

"Awesome, right? Cas never saw it coming."

"He wasn't the only one."

Dean took the opportunity to really look at his brother and frowned. "You okay? You look like three-day-old shapeshifter shit."

Sam shrugged. "I've been to hell and back."

"Same old, same old for us Winchesters," Dean said with a grin, relieved to see Sammy up and functioning. Maybe not completely steady, but who among them were. "You good, though?"

"Yeah, I will be. Why didn't you tell me you were working for Death?"

"Thought it might interfere with my payment. I mean, Death went to all that trouble to find your soul and build that wall. Didn't want anything to topple it." He looked down again at Cas. "Hope you know I'm gonna be collecting on that one, Cas. You should've left Sam out of it."

"His distraction technique was apparently less successful than yours." Sam shook his head. "How come you're always pulling one over on these guys? Crowley? Eve? Castiel?"

Dean grinned. "I'm charmingly dumb. They think that means simple and stupid. They just don't get the book/cover thing."

"Charmingly dumb. That's what you're calling it now?" Sam gave a small chuckle. "Moron is more like it."

"Watch it. That Palin chick'll be all over you. C'mon and help me get Mr. 'I'm King Of The World's heavy ass up the stairs. I really did hurt myself with my 'less than optimal entry.' Damn, Bobby, when'd you get so high falutin'?"

"Maybe when you got smart enough to screw over a god."

Dean gave Bobby a sloppy salute. "Let's get outta here. Apparently there's a burger with my name on it."

"It's bad enough I worried about you and Cas. Now you're dating Death," Sam gave an exasperated sigh.

"Dating Dea--Who said anything about dating? We're just going out to din--" Dean paused, realizing he was about to step into a big hole. Sure he'd first met Death at a restaurant. And the horseman had brought him a snack at Bobby's. But...damn. "And what do you mean about me and Cas?"

"Tight grips. Profound bonds. Penetrating stares..."

"Bullshit, you gigantic perv. But I'm gonna let it go. You've had head trauma recently, so I'm gonna be the bigger man--"

"Is that what you say to Death when you cuddle?"

Sam was laughing--laughing after going through how much hell just to ride to his rescue. If he had to be the butt of the joke for a while, it was worth it.

For a while.

"Ha ha. C'mon, Dorothy, it's time we get the hell out of Kansas. And I'm serious about the car, dude. Please tell me it ain't the Pinto. Four grown-ass men in a Pinto is a clown joke. And I know how you feel about clowns...."

Dean looked back as they dragged Cas up the stairs, Bobby directing their movement. The floor and walls were stained with angel innards and dog blood dripped beneath profane letters. Cas may have gripped him tight, but Dean figured neither one of them had made it too far from perdition. When Heaven, Hell, and Earth, started to look interchangeable, maybe it was time for a vacation or something.

"Does Fiji have naked beaches? Or Tahiti?"

"What?"

"Just thinkin' we all need some time off. To make up for this shit, Cas is gonna take us somewhere nice." Whether he knew it or not. "Naked beaches'll be worth a little constipation, don'tcha think? I wonder if I add a dash of Metamucil powder to my beer...."

The End

**Author's Note:**

> The inspiration for this story comes from 6.11: Appointment in Samarra:
> 
> DEATH: We're done here. It's been lovely. But now I'm going to go to hell to get your brother's soul.
> 
> DEAN: Why would you do that for me?
> 
> DEATH: I wouldn't do it for you. You and your brother keep coming back. You're an affront to the balance of the universe, and you cause disruption on a global scale.
> 
> DEAN: I apologize for that.
> 
> DEATH: But you have use. Right now, you're digging at something. The intrepid Detective. I want you to keep digging, Dean.
> 
> DEAN: So you're just gonna be cryptic, or...
> 
> DEATH: It's about the souls. You'll understand when you need to.


End file.
